


The Fall Of The House Of Winchester

by thorkiship18



Series: One-Shots [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate History, Benny Lafitte & Dean Winchester Friendship, Dead Sam, Depressed Dean Winchester, Horror, Hysteria, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Incest, Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe, M/M, POV First Person, Psychological Horror, Short One Shot, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 13:11:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11253639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorkiship18/pseuds/thorkiship18
Summary: Benjamin and Dean have been close friends since childhood. Years later, Benjamin visits his dear friend, finding him distraught over the illness of his young brother, Samuel. As Benjamin stays with Dean through his grief, odd happenings take place within the large mansion.





	The Fall Of The House Of Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> I love Edgar Allan Poe so much! ❤

My memory of my dearest friend is, and will unfortunately, be forever bittersweet. His name was Dean. Dean Winchester.

We met in our youths, often found skipping rocks along the lake near his beautiful house. I would always liken the place to a castle. It was large; his parents were very rich indeed.

As he and I played in front of his home, I would look up to see his brother staring from the window, sometimes with a thick, open tome in both hands. Samuel was his name, though Dean would call him "Sammy", a name that only he was permitted to say.

He was ill for most of his boyhood, yet my childlike mind did not comprehend nor question why he never came out to play.

I thought it odd way back then, but then again, the oddities would not begin until a very long time later. What I witnessed that horrific night will live on in my dreams for the rest of my days, and afterwards as well. May God have mercy on me.

Years past, yet Dean and I kept in contact with a flurry of handwritten letters. Each week, there was a new adventure to tell, a new and exciting story. But one day, it all ceased. Dean no longer wrote the enthusiastic dialogue from before. His tone was much somber, and cold.

I inquired about his sudden state of despair of course, and he informed me of Samuel's illness, and how it had gotten worse. Immediately, I had dropped everything to see him once again. My friend was not well, and he needed my support as he had no one else. All of their family had died.

Upon reaching House Winchester for the first time in ten years, I nearly gasped. It was in shambles, close to disrepair. Yet, the most defining feature of the outer shell of the building was a huge fissure running up along the side towards the roof.

I entered the house, greeted by none other than Dean himself. We clung to each other for a time, laughing as old friends do. I had missed him so, and New York is so far away from here. I took a look at him, finding that Dean grew into a very handsome man, just like his father.

He took me to see Samuel shortly after, who was sitting pleasantly on the sofa in their library. He looked very thin, very sickly. He tried to stand and greet me, though Dean stopped him quickly from doing so. His illness was far worse than I had originally imagined.

Afterwards, we left Samuel to his own devices so we could reminisce about the old days...for a time. Dean was anxious; his knee bounded in place. He was literally itching to get back to his brother. I asked him politely if he would have me tend to him, but I only received a sharp, negative response in return.

It was the first hint that something was not as it seemed.

At dinner, Dean tended to Samuel, feeding him directly even though the young man was perfectly capable of doing so. I watched silently from my own plate as I witnessed the lingering touches from Dean, and the soft, hopefull stares from Samuel. I was not aware then of what went on, but I am wiser now.

As the night fell, Dean directed me towards one of the many guest rooms in their home. I thanked him, and bid him a good night. Hours later, past midnight, I awoke to a strange noise. I hadn't any idea as to what it could have been, but my curiosity got the better of me.

I lit a candle, and roamed the dark, twisted halls of House Winchester until I came across a large door. Samuel's bedroom door. The noises were coming from beyond that door, though they were extremely muffled. Still so very curious, I pressed my ear to the door. I heard Dean, moaning as if he was with a lover.

"I will always take care of you, Sammy." He grunted. "Please don't leave me..."

I gasped, clutching my garments thusly. I had heard talk of family engaging in sexual acts overseas, but never did I think that my own friend--my dearest, greatest friend--would fornicate with his own brother. My stomach felt sick...yet as I went back into my room to sleep, I began to understand Dean's plight.

Samuel was imprisoned his entire life, unable to call anyone his own...except Dean. The only one.

The next few weeks passed relatively easy. I kept a favorable distance from Samuel as I knew he was always incredibly happy with Dean around, and so on. Just as I began to feel as though my presence was a hindrance, Dean came crying to me one night, nearly inconsolable.

"He has died!" He cried on my shoulder. "Samuel has perished! We must prepare for temporary entombment. Quickly, while the body is in perfect form."

Bewildered, yet also shaken, I obeyed Dean's instructions. He gathered a coffin from the bowels of their house, and brought it to Samuel's room as I watched. He was so gentle when handling with the boy's body; he cradled Samuel's head, and swept hair away from his beautiful face. Throughout carrying the coffin to the basement, Dean's continuous SOBS assaulted my ears.

I understood. Of course I did. I too have lost loved ones, but Samuel was all he had, and he left him to be the only surviving Winchester. After the dead was done, I attempted to console Dean, but he brushed my help aside, harshly. I accepted this. It was still too soon.

The days past, and Dean's hysteria was only becoming worse. He would stay up long into the night, loudly singing ancient lullabies in Samuel's room. His behavior concerned me. I tried making feeble excuses for myself thinking that he was only grieving his brother's death, but I should have known better.

To make matters even worse, the house grew farther into destruction. Cracks would form all around the estate, creeping up beside me at different hours of the night and morning. It all came to a climax the day I was to return to New York. I packed my suitcase, quietly humming a song from my childhood when Dean burst in the room, eyes bloodshot red and hair askew.

"I've heard it!" He yelled. "I've heard it with my own ears!" I asked him what he was raving about, but he kept on in his delirium. He grabbed my arm with an iron grip. "Come, you must come! You must listen!"

I had no choice. I allowed myself to be escorted away from my room to be led into Samuel's old bedroom. The cracks in the walls were abundant there, more than any I've seen thus far. Dean let go of me, and stood in front of the balcony doors. He threw them open; thunder sounded, causing me to quake. A storm would arrive soon.

"He is here! He will never leave me! We have done the unthinkable, my friend!" Dean grabbed me once more, delirious eyes gazing into my soul. "Can you not hear it? Can you not hear the beating...OF HIS HEART!? We have sealed him up alive! We must retrieve him!"

I tried--oh how I tried--to get Dean to see reason, to see that Samuel was dead forever, but it was all for naught. When he opened the bedroom door, he was greeted by a ghastly being, an ethereal spirit. It was Samuel! It bore the likeness of Samuel, I might add, but I knew right away that the being before us was not the being that dies days prior.

Dean, nonetheless, was ecstatic, which was his ultimate downfall. He opened his arms wide, grinning. "Sammy!"

The spirit wailed, and hurled itself at Dean. The pair collapsed onto the floorboards, but by the time Dean hit the ground, he was dead, skin already pale and cold. The House shook violently with myself still inside. Without any luggage or cloak of anytime, I made my exit, running to collect my horse from the stables. As I rode away from the house, I took one last look.

The mansion split in two before crumbling down against the dawn. It truly was a mortifying experience. I loved Dean and Samuel as if they were my own siblings. I must never tell their tale. No one must ever know. No one...must ever know about...

The Fall Of The House Of Winchester.


End file.
